Ed Van Fleet: Grand EagleI first heard this playing from a CD kiosk in a tourist trap in the Lakes Region of NH. Listening to it always reminds me of carefree summer days. It's also perfect background music for writing, relaxing or napping.

May 2008

May 29, 2008

This Memorial Day weekend was one of the most spectacular in recent memory here in New England. Sunny skies, temps in the mid-70s and a light breeze - it's like hitting the long weekend trifecta. To celebrate this slice of perfection, I spent most of the weekend outside with the kiddos. (Well, all of the kiddos who are no longer being bottle-fed anyway.) We washed cars, did some yardwork, played baseball... fairly standard-issue family stuff. On Sunday night, however, Jake reminded me that I promised to take him to see the new Indiana Jones flick during the opening weekend and he intended to hold me to my word.

Jake was first introduced to Indiana Jones during a Disney World vacation. He was five-years-old and, like all little boys, he was fascinated by anything with wheels and/or propellers. I knew that the Indiana Jones Stunt Spectacularwould be right up his alley so we waited in line, found some good seats and, after a bit of nervousness brought on by the scale of the sets and the volume of the sound system, Jake settled right in and fell in love with the character and storyline that so many of us fell for when we were his age. When we got home, we watched the original trilogy together. We YouTubed the Crystal Skull trailer as soon as it hit the web. We began the countdown to Memorial Day 2008 shortly after Christmas 2007. Yes, I admit, we're fanboys.

In the days leading-up to the film's theatrical release, I was troubled by some of the early reviews which ranged from "not bad" to "meh." (I'm paraphrasing, of course.) Since the films I most enjoy are those which require little thought and much suspension of disbelief, I'm typically at odds with film reviewers and their opinions. However, after being scarred for life by a little film called Star Wars: Episode 1, I was looking for some early indication that another fond childhood memory wouldn't be erased by lousy storytelling and overactive merchandising departments. Despite these decidedly unflattering reviews, I packed-up the kids on Monday morning and headed to the local cineplex.

In my humble opinion, the film was fantastic. Perhaps my view is colored by a healthy dose of nostalgia, as I was exactly Jake's age when I sat next to my Dad and marveled at Indy's on-screen heroics in Raiders. Perhaps it's because, after Lucas' desecration of Star Wars, my expectations were low, but I absolutely loved this movie. All of the ingredients which made the original trilogy a success are present in this film, and Spielberg did an admirable job of introducing Indy to a new generation of fans while remaining true to the spirit of the series. Well done, Steven... well done.

A quick check of RottenTomatoes.com reveals that Crystal Skull received a 78% overall favorable rating, indicating that early negative reviews are in the minority. However, I'm still a bit baffled by the reasoning behind some of the negative press and - since I have nothing better to do between late night bottle feedings - I've been spending way too much time thinking about the subject. So, here's my armchair psychology session for the day...

Most of the negative comments by "professional' reviewers as well as the passing comments of Joe/Jane Average Moviegoer, seem to center on the "unbelievable" nature of elements in the film. I'm curious to learn what elements of the original trilogy did these individuals find more plausible. If the face-melting religious artifact from Raiders, the heart-extracting baddie from Temple of Doom or the dusty old Templar knight from Last Crusade didn't shatter their suspension of disbelief, why does Mutt (Shia Laboeuf's character in Crystal Skull) swinging from a vine make the latest installment a dud? I don't get it. People also seem to be offended by Speilberg's homage to characters and settings from other films of the 50s - Brando's tough guy from The Wild One, for example. What they're doing is perseverating on a 10-second scene within a 124-miunte movie... a scene that was perfectly shot and well acted.

I know that professional critics are supposed to give lousy reviews of popcorn-muncher flicks (it's part of the union bylaws, I believe) and automatically love anything with subtitles, but films like Crystal Skull fulfill an undeniable need... particularly in times like these. Indy's latest romp provides us with an opportunity to escape from soaring gas prices, slumping economies and duplicitous politicians and go on a grand adventure with an old friend. The film is not high art, it doesn't have a soul-baring message which can only be extracted with the help of a pouty British actress and deep introspection and it doesn't pretend to be grounded in reality. It is, in a word, fun.

Peter Travers - Rolling Stone film critic extraordinaire - wrote the following: "instead of the elegiac tone that lifted 1989's presumptive valedictory, The Last Crusade, director Steven Spielberg and producer George Lucas have gotten sillier." Although Travers' use of a thesaurus is masterful, I think he's got it all wrong. Spielberg hasn't gotten sillier... the world is simply would a little tighter. Don't blame it on 9/11. Don't blame it on Bush. We have become so wrapped-up in political correctness and quasi-intellectual meanderings that we've forgotten how to walk into a theatre and simply give ourselves up to the experience. I honestly don't care if Cate Blanchett's accent seems over-the-top. Non-english speaking people who learn english sometimes converse with a thick accent. It's not offensive. It's not demeaning. It's a fact. The same goes for local dialects. I'm a New Englander born-and-bred and I've been known to drop the letter "r" from time-to-time. Does that mean I should take offense to Cliff Clavin from Cheers? Get over it.

The bottom-line is this: if you enjoy adventure movies, would like to escape the real world for a couple of hours and can watch a chase scene without wondering if the villian's portrayal of Cold War-era Soviets will damage current Russian/American relationships, then go see this movie. If you want to see a "highly internalized, multi-layered tale of guilt, redemption, and the power and limits of the artistic imagination" rent Atonement.

As for me, I'll likely plunk down ten bucks to watch Indy's adventure on the big screen once again and will take Jake for a second viewing as well. (He's already asked.) At various points during the film he laughed out loud, stood-up and cheered and even looked away from the screen for a moment or two during the scarier bits. Unencumbered by the realities of the "real world," he was able to jump into the drama and action whole-heartedly and was swept along for the ride... just like I was back in '81 when I saw Raiders with my Dad.

Having an opportunity to share an experience like that across generations is a rare and precious thing. It's what a trip to the movies is all about.

May 22, 2008

There are few things on earth which are more fleeting or ephemeral than the obsessions of a child. Read any parenting advice tome and you'll find that there are perfectly reasonable - even beneficial - reasons why junior needs to hear the Barney theme song ten times in a row, but it doesn't make the experience any less irritating for parents.

Gracie, my headstrong five-year-old, seems particularly susceptible to the practice of repeating the same film or song ad-nauseum when it strikes her fancy. We first took note of this when she was three and Mary Poppins ran in an infinite loop. Whenever Gracie had a turn at-bat with the home theater system, she always went for that DVD. I hadn't watched it in years - maybe decades - and had forgotten how charming it is. The music is mostly enjoyable so the obsession was tolerable.

Although her fascination with Mary Poppins ended as abruptly as it began, the European nanny / Julie Andrews obsession persisted once my wife introduced her to The Sound of Music. It was through this film that wifey also introduced the children to the existence of something called a "soundtrack album." So in addition to watching Maria swirl around the countryside (which everyone knows is the real source of crop circles) on a regular basis, we were also treated to the dulcet tones of Christopher Plummer singing Edelweiss whenever we went on a road trip.

Although such fixations may be normal for children, sustained exposure to the same media has a somewhat detrimental effect on the fragile psyche of a parent, the effects of which manifest in bizarre ways. Case-in-point: a buddy actually called me out because I was humming Sixteen Going On Seventeen while waiting for a file to open on my office PC. No man in his mid-30s should ever have such music running through his brain, especially in a corporate setting. Period.

Sure enough, like Mary Poppins, Maria dropped off the radar screen as rapidly as she emerged. No more poor misguided Rolf. No more pining Liesl. No more pre-Lost In Space Angela Cartwright. All were dispatched to some other little girl's DVD player. All sent to infect some other poor father's subconscious. Auf wiedersehen, VonTrapps.

Fortunately, we seem to have dodged the Hannah Montana bullet, so I haven't been tasked with doing the impossible and coming-up with tickets to see Hannah live. However, we have been completely unable to dodge the juggernaut that is High School Musical.

Allow me to provide one man's humble description of High School Musical (or "HSM") for the uninitiated. HSM is essentially a mash-up of Grease, Fame and Archie comics. The end result is a poor man's John Hughes flick set to music squarely targeted at Gen-Z tweens. The alchemists at Disney have transformed this simple formula into gold and merchandised the brand like mad.

In addition to having the HSM movies on DVD (there are two) and the soundtracks on CD, the following items have found their way into our home:

The High School Musical East High Yearbook (hardcover, of course)

The High School Musical Easter Basket

The High School Musical Barbie Dolls

The High School Musical "Sing It" game for Wii (complete with microphone)

The High School Musical Stationery Set

The High School Musical Swimming Pool Set (for the dolls)

I'm sure there is additional HSM-branded merchandise floating around, but the above list represents the items I most frequently clean-up from various corners of the house. There are also posters, bedding sets, dinnerware and other items carrying the logo available and it all seems a bit excessive... and I don't mean excessive in the parental "gee, I wish the world wasn't so commercial" sense. I mean excessive in the "even George Lucas would be offended" sense.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I have to confess that by day I'm a marketing director for a technology company and have filled this role in various tech companies for the lion's share of my career. From a business perspective, I can absolutely appreciate - and stand in awe of - the incredible moneymaking machines that such properties have become. (I'm also a HUGE Disney fan and wish they would go back to being a bit more selective about licensing their brands... but that's another discussion.) As a parent, however, I do feel a bit overwhelmed by the ubiquity of it all. Kids lose interest quickly and I truly believe that a constant marketing onslaught accelerates the process. Next year it will be something different and some poor retailer is going to be stuck liquidating a warehouse full of High School Musical TV trays to Building #19 for pennies on the dollar. Ah, capitalism.

Ironically, those items which seem to hold the attention of our kids for the longest are largely the same items which fascinated my wife and I when we were kids. Gracie never grows tired of playing Mama to her baby dolls, Jake keeps going back to his toy cars and G.I. Joe figures, and they both love books, art projects and building blocks. We feel blessed that the kids would rather spend their birthday/holiday/chore money on a book instead of an action figure... that is, of course, until someone decides to make the VonTrapp Family Mansion playset and/or Maria doll with kung-fu grip. Then all bets are off.

May 17, 2008

As Baby Sam continues to settle into a feeding/sleeping/changing routine - and as my wife and I try to get in-synch with that routine as well - I'm often reminded of my firstborn son when he was an infant... with one notable difference: Jake had colic.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with colic, allow me to summarize... Colic is a condition of unknown origin, which affects the baby for an indeterminate length of time and is characterized by inconsolable crying. It also tends to manifest itself in the late afternoon or early evening. In other words, just when adoring parents are coming home from work.

Colic is particularly horrifying for a first-time parent, such was the case with me. All day long, Jake would be cooing and happy for my wife and her Mom. As soon as I got home, however, he began getting "fussy." Fussy behavior soon gave way to outright wailing which would then last for one to three hours. As if being a twentysomthing-homeowner-new-husband-first-time-Dad-dot-bomb-employee wasn't stressful enough, a colic-y baby proved to be quite effective at chipping away at the last vestiges of sanity, which was in short supply for we sleep deprived new parents.

But that was then and this is now. Mr. Fussy Pants has grown into a baseball playin', X-Box lovin', Iron Man watchin' young man. One of the fringe benefits of having a geek for a father (c'est moi,) is that you'll either inherit Dad's hand-me-down tech gear or get your own. Jake owns a new iPod Nano and has a PC in his room. His grandfather also presented him with on old Palm Tungsten, so Jake now carries around a device reminding him to "make a card for Mom" or "tell Dad to get ice cream." His first PDA. I am so proud I could just cry.

Much to my wife's dismay, there are also rooms in the house which look like a game museum of sorts. We have an X-Box 360, Wii, gen-one X-Box, PSP, Game Boy, Dreamcast, Game Cube, Genesis, Sega CD, Commodore 64, Commodore VIC-20 and - somewhere - an Atari 2600 is kicking around as well. The 360, when not recuperating from the RRoD in Texas, is the primary game system and both Rock Band and Guitar Hero are staples in our house. Jake is actually becoming something of an expert... a true virtuoso of the plastic guitar.

I love these games because not only do they require physical interaction with what's happening on the screen, they also open-up a world of music that kids of my son's age may very well have missed. It's one thing when your Dad says, "hey - check out this song I used to listen to back in the day." It's another when you get to experience the song as a musician. (Or a simulated musician as the case may be.) I'm certain that he must have overheard a Nirvana track or two blaring from my stereo while working in the yard, but he never paid much attention until he had an opportunity to sing along in Rock Band. It's a proud day when your son asks you to play Seattle grunge on the car stereo instead of Disney music. (Which I also enjoy, by the way, but that's a post for another day.)

Jake's iTunes playlists feature everything from Sinatra and Mozart to Barenaked Ladies and the Police. Recently, thanks to Rock Band, he's also asked for music from The Clash, The Ramones, OK Go, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and others. Thanks to our beloved Red Sox, he's also been introduced to "Tessie" and I've used that as a platform to slip in some selected Dropkick Murphys tracks. (Both he and my five-year-old daughter sing along to "I'm Shipping Up to Boston.")

I'm also introducing him to 90s-era Boston bands... some of the best music most people have never heard. Tribe was one of my favorite acts and the lion's share of that band now form a little company you may have heard about called Harmonix. O-Positive was another staple of the New England concert scene. ("Imagine That" was probably their biggest hit but, in my opinion, not their best work.) And, of course, Letters to Cleo.

Ahhh... Letters to Cleo. An amazing band, a great live act and fronted one of the best female vocalists in rock, Kay Hanley. This local act did score some notable national success, initially through "Here and Now" and it's ties to Melrose Place, then later through soundtracks for films like 10 Things I Hate About You - which includes a great cover of Cheap Trick's "I Want You to Want Me"- and Josie and the Pussycats. (I didn't see the movie, but the soundtrack is great.)

Jake has becoming a HUGE fan of Kay and Letters to Cleo, so we killed some time checking out what YouTube had to offer. Through this process, we found a couple of surprising videos: Kay singing the theme from a Care Bears movie in a recent Macy's Parade, and another one of her videos featuring some impressive cameos... namely Tigger, Pooh and the rest of the Thousand Acre Wood gang. Jake thought it was funny that the woman who belts out these incredible rock tunes is the same person running around a CG landscape with Disney characters. I think it's serves as a wonderful example of how you can grow older, have a family and still be as cool as ever.

I've never been good at the "cool" part, but I admire those who are. ;-)

May 13, 2008

So I just finished changing my first diaper in five years. It was not completed with the speed and precision of a NASCAR pit crew, but passable by any measure. I might add that the diaper change immediately followed the child drinking an entire bottle of formula and preceded a belch of impressive duration and timbre. (Baby Sam's belch, that is... not mine.)

I've got to admit, it does seem a bit strange to have a baby in the house again after so much time. Yet there's also a peaceful familiarity to it, almost as if having a third child was simply meant to be... that things were somehow incomplete and are now made whole. Despite the cries for a bottle or a dry diaper, the house seems much more at peace. It's not that things were chaotic prior to Sam's arrival - at least not more than any other home with an eight-year-old and a five-year-old living under the same roof - but an indescribable comfort and warmth seems to have settled around the house and all who dwell within.

The logical side of my being tells me that this feeling is simply a reaction to the activities of the past couple of weeks... the calm one feels when a stressful situation has reached a positive conclusion. Yet there's another part of me that believes the peace can be attributed to a balance being struck or a destiny fulfilled. Katie and I were neither trying for nor expecting to have another child, but it seems that God had other plans. All things happen for a reason.

One of the many attributes I love about my little podunk, one-stoplight town to Boston's southwest is the way that night settles across the neighborhood. As the sky turns from hues of gold and red to shades of blue and black, the sounds of passing cars surrender to the sounds of insects and twigs snapping as nocturnal animals ramble about the stand of woods behind my home.

We don't suffer from the same light pollution issues which plague larger cities and towns, so virtually any clear night will yield an incredible celestial view. It's a great spot to be by yourself and think big thoughts. Some nights when I'm sitting on the deck or enjoying a cigar by the campfire, I'll catch a glimpse of a shooting star or a glint of sunlight off a communications satellite as it travels horizon-to-horizon in a sweeping and graceful arc. Once we were fortunate enough to see the International Space Station streak by with Shuttle Atlantis trailing close behind. Humans traveling 17,500 miles per hour, 200 miles above the Earth. Another everyday miracle taken for granted.

It's tough to put into words the awe that I feel when looking at my newborn child, or at my other two children for that matter, and contemplating the series of events which have to take place just-so to transform a cluster of cells into a new soul or an inquisitive toddler into a thoughtful child. I refuse to believe that all of this came about through a series of lucky accidents. There's simply more to it than that.

Science can explain the mechanics, but falls well short of answering "why." That is the more relevant bit. That is the job of poets.

May 12, 2008

So I'm in a conference call and my cell phone keeps buzzing. I, being the good corporate citizen that I am, hit "ignore" repeatedly on my snazzy new smartphone. As my call wraps-up and I begin walking toward my next meeting, I call my wife to see what was so urgent.

Wifey: "Where have you been?"

Me: "Working... where else. What gives? Everyone okay?"

Wifey: "He's coming home."

Me: "When?"

Wifey: "NOW!"

Forty-five minutes later I was zooming down 495, picking up my daughter at daycare (only five minutes late... I am the real Speed Racer,) then sprinting home to begin getting the house ready for Sam's arrival. (Apparently, there were bottles to be washed, playpacks to be set-up, diaper bags to be packed, etc.) I'm just heading out the door now to head to the hospital.

I suppose I should back-up a bit... this weekend Sam had a phenomenal recovery. He began taking all of his meals from the bottle, the feeding tube was removed and he surpassed his birth weight. The nursing staff informed us on Sunday that he will likely return home mid-week. We were thrilled. Monday was mentioned as a remote possibility late last week before he had his little setback, but never since. Now, here we are, ready to take the kiddo home. Finally. Now maybe I can get some sleep. ;-)

May 09, 2008

Baby Sam had a GREAT day. He was able to take all his feedings by bottle but lost a bit of weight again, so it's on to a formula mixture that's a bit richer in caloric content. He's also beginning to wake up when he's hungry, far better than sleeping so soundly and for so long that nurses have to wake him up for a feeding. He's really coming along.

I got to the hospital just as he was ready for a feeding and he drank just about the entire bottle for me. I also had an opportunity to just hold him and rock with him for quite a while. He feel asleep in my arms and I had forgotten how much I enjoyed that. The peace one feels when holding a sleeping infant is a rare and precious thing.

Katie brought a bag of new preemie clothes that she and her mother picked-up earlier in the week and the nurses are putting him into a new outfit each day. It's nice to see him in a blue onesie covered in cartoon puppies instead of hospital attire. It makes me feel like he'll be coming home soon.

So despite the fact that he's doing much better and we're all feeling more confident, I still can't get to sleep. I'm the proud father of a one-week-old son and the house is entirely too quiet. It's 2:30 a.m. and things are status quo - Jake and Grace are sleeping soundly in their rooms, Katie is doing remarkably well considering the C-section was just a week ago, the dogs are snoring, I'm doing a bit of catch-up work... all is as it has been for years. It's just that empty nursery that's killing me. I know I should be sleeping because, once Sammy is home, sleep will be in short supply. Maybe it's good that I can't get some shuteye... I'll be well conditioned by the time he gets home.

Tomorrow evening (or, technically, later tonight) we're going to bring the kids to the hospital for a visit. The last time they saw him he was hooked-up to the ventilator and I think it threw Jake a bit. Seeing him sans tubes (save for the gavage) will do a world of good for them as well. We'll likely take an opportunity to have dinner and/or ice cream in Boston while were relatively close to town. (I'm an absolute sucker for J.P. Licks.)

The weekend promises to bring more rain. Good for the grass, but not so good for those of us who haven't gotten around to mowing it yet. When and if we get a nice day this weekend, I'll spend a few hours tending to the lawn and likely take the kids for a bike ride so we can properly break in Jake's new set of wheels. Until the rain clears, however, the X-Box 360 will be calling my name.

May 08, 2008

Just a quick update this morning... Baby Sam is doing MUCH better today. He still isn't taking all of his meals via bottle, but he did have three full bottles yesterday. He's also beginning to gain weight, so we're turning that corner as well. Katie is heading in to see him this morning and I'll take care of the 6:30 feeding this evening... more details later.

In other news... Jake had a great game last night: two hits, one RBI and a nice defensive play.

May 07, 2008

Today was a bit of a setback for Baby Sam. He didn't really drink much from the bottle and, as a result, most of his feedings were provided via gavage. According to the nursing staff, preemies fatigue easily and he simply wore himself out yesterday by taking almost all of his meals via bottle. We're also told that this isn't a problem, but it certainly isn't accelerating the timetable for his move from the hospital to our home. So although an early release is unlikely, we're still holding out hope for the weekend.

Katie and I had an opportunity to visit and spend an hour or so with him tonight, and he was able to drink half of his bottle and give a few good burps before falling asleep. We were also able to take turns holding him during the gavage feeding so he could get the rest of the food into his system.

It was a relatively slow night in the special care nursery. For the bulk of the evening it seemed like we were the only parents there, even though nearly every bay held a baby connected to a monitor. During times like this - while everything is quiet, save for the occassional electronic chime reminding the nursing staff to change an IV - when both the fragility and miraculous nature of life hit you full-force.

I look at Sam in all his glory - impossibly small hands wrapped around my pinkie, tiny mouh puffing rythmically as he exhales during a deep sleep - and just stare in awe at this little person, at once fragile and resilient. It doesn't seem all that long ago when I was looking down at Jake like this. I was a 27-year-old who was scared to death and sick with worry about how he was going to be a good father and provider. Now I'm carting him off to baseball three days a week and taking him to see superhero movies. It's simply remarkable to watch children grow and develop their own personalities, tastes and traits. We feel nothing short of blessed that, despite being in our mid-30s, we have have one last opportunity to experience this again.

We're not going into this with rose-colored glasses and are fully-aware of the tough times as well. Sleep depravation will grind us down and ensuring that all of the kids receive equal attention will not be easy, but we now realize that for every rough night and hectic day, there's the polar opposite... the moments that make you burst with pride and unfettered love. The first steps. The first words. Watching from the stands as your son gets his first honest-to-goodness hit or turns a great defensive play. The first time your daughter writes her name or reads a book to you. Miracles all.

During the drive home, Katie and I talked about the events of the day... what was written on Sam's charts, when we expect him to be discharged and the like. We also set my trusty iPod to shuffle and the selections seemed to be matching-up with our mood: a bit meloncholia, a bit blue. Lots of Counting Crows and Miles Davis.

May 06, 2008

It has been a whirlwind week, but everyone is starting to settle-in a bit since Sam made his appearance late last Tuesday. We were able to bring Katie home on Sunday afternoon so things are starting to get back to normal on the homefront... but we all feel a bit off-kilter without having Sam at home as well.

The good news is that he's doing great. We're going to the hospital in shifts so Katie and I each get to see him for an hour or so and give him a bottle. (I'm still letting the nurses change his diaper for me. I'm no fool.) They've upped the amount of formula he's given during each feeding and his weight loss has slowed, so there's a good chance that he'll begin gaining weight soon. Right now the over/under for his remaning stay in the hospital is five days, with bettors favoring a slight under. Hope they're right. ;)

He was on a ultraviolet light bed for a couple of days to help bring down his bilirubin levels, as he was a bit jaundice. As of yesterday morning (5/5), however, they discontinued the UV treatments. The only minor setback is that hey had to reinsert the feeding tube. The upped the amount of formula he's taking each time and, by the time we give him his bottles late in the day, he's exhausted and falls asleep midway through the meal. Again, we're told this is all very typical behavior for a preemie so we're not stressing yet.

In other news... the kids' baseball season kicked-off with the annual little league parade on Saturday, followed by the chaos of team and individual photos at the field. Late Saturday afternoon, Jake made his First Communion and we threw a big party afterward. It was weird to have an event at the house without Mom around, but we wanted to make sure that Jake's first impression of his new brother wasn't "the little guy who makes the grown-ups cancel all of my plans." (To that end, Jake and I even managed to catch Iron Man on Sunday night. It's an awesome movie and - after the week we just had - I welcomed the two-hour escape.)

Spring has also sprung all around the property and everything is in full bloom. I'll snap some photos later in the week or over the weekend and create a new album for those of you who are interested.

Thanks again to all for your prayers. Your support means the world to us and Baby Sam is getting stronger by the day, so keep it up!

May 02, 2008

Well, Sam celebrated the two-day anniversary of his birth by knocking-back a few bottles of formula. He's breathing 100% on his own now and is doing fine, but we was less-than-enthusiastic at this afternoon's feeding so they reinserted the feeding tube. We're told this isn't a setback, just par for the course. (We're trying to determine if that's a true statement or something they tell to nervous parents.) He's also snoozing under some UV light today to help with very mild jaundice. Other than that, all is well. (Hmmm... empty bottles, laziness, UV lamps... sounds like he's getting ready to celebrate spring break, no?)

Katie is doing fine. She's been able to hold Sam a few times, which is doing more good for her than any painkiller. She's up-and-about and moving around. Nothing really to do but relax and recover as best as possible.

Rumor has it that Katie will be heading home on Sunday, but sans-Sam. He'll likely spend a couple of weeks in the special care nursery so he can grow and bulk-up a bit more. It will be very strange at home without him, but it will actually allow Kate to fully recover and even catch-up on some sleep before the chaos of caring for a newborn ensues.

Jake, Grace and I are heading in to the hospital tonight after some Chinese food. (The kids have been great dealing with all of the commotion... they deserve a treat.) Hopefully we'll be able to get another look at Sam and, if we time it right, I may be able to hold him for the first time.

For a few additional photos of the tyke, click on the "Baby Sam" photo album link at the top-left corner of the page.

Now that the update is out of the way, here are a few FAQs for your reading pleasure:

Q: "Who does he look like?"A: Like all newborns, he looks like Ziggy (but with hair.) Most of the nurses seem to think that he looks like me (but with hair). Who knows.

Q: "What color are his eyes?"A: I have no idea. I'm dying to find out as well!

Q: "How much did he weigh? How long is he?"A: He weighed 5.5 lbs at birth and is 18-inches long. He's probably lost some weight during the past couple of days but, in the grand scheme of things, very healthy.

Q: "What was his due date?"A: We had a scheduled C-section set for May 27, but his actual due date was June 10. SURPRISE!